


In Walks Trouble

by Cobrilee



Series: Not Another Sterek Story [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-series ending, Reunion, banter and flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: Danny just wanted to go to the gym, like any ordinary day. The gym part he got. Any ordinary day? Not so much.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



> For my subscribers who just clicked on the link in their email notification without reading any of the tags, please note that this is NOT a Sterek fic. The lovely Inell challenged me to go beyond my comfort zone and so I'm going to attempt to write ficlets here and there that are any pairing other than Sterek.

The gasping and grunting coming from the guy behind Danny is both vaguely arousing and seriously annoying. It’s not like he’s not used to it; Danny’s been a gym rat for years, and there are a great number of people who think that overdoing it to the point of not being able to breathe properly makes them look like a badass, or somehow sexy. It doesn’t make it any less irritating when he’s trying to listen to his music and the sound of some mouth-breather acting like he’s filming a porno drowns it out.

“Jesus, really?” Danny huffs, yanking out his earbuds when a long, low groan slides in under the heavy bass thrumming through his ears. Never mind the fact that his dick is telling him that’s a  _ good _ groan, the kind that makes it want to stand up and say hi. It’s the fucking  _ gym _ . A little consideration would be nice.

“Dude, I’m sorry,” the voice pants out, and his skin prickles, because he  _ knows _ that voice.

Sure enough, when he turns around he’s confronted by his biggest high school regret: Stiles Stilinski. He stares, wide-eyed, because Stiles grew up much more nicely than Danny would have imagined. And Danny imagined it a lot.

His eyes skim the other man from head to toe as quickly as he can manage, then slowly track their way back up. Stiles has filled out, but not to the point of being ridiculous. His muscles are just right for his frame-beautiful definition, the perfect amount of curve without any grotesque bulging. His shape has developed over the years from lean and wiry into lithe and lethal. It makes Danny wonder if hunters got ahold of him, somehow.

Which is a stupid as fuck thought, really. Everyone knew he was a werewolf groupie, would take a bullet before he turned on them. Especially Derek Hale.

Danny realizes he’s been silent too long, gaping too much, when Stiles’ abashed expression gives way to a sly look. “Good to see you too, Danny Boy,” he teases, and Danny refuses to blush.

“I didn’t say anything,” he retorts easily, and Stiles smirks in a way that clearly spells out that he said a lot without even opening his mouth. “What are you doing in San Diego? I thought you’d still be up north with your dad, and the pack.”

Stiles stiffens, and Danny realizes immediately that this is not a story with a happy ending. “Dad took a medical retirement, mostly because I forced the issue. We moved down here two months ago. The pack is pretty much gone by this point, so there was nothing left to stay in Beacon Hills for.”

Danny knows there’s more to it than that, but honestly, he doesn’t care right now. He’d long ago given up on the idea that he might run into Stiles one day, that he might get a second chance to act on the not-insignificant crush he’d had on him in high school. That he actually is being given the opportunity is a definite incentive to not steer the conversation to something that would put Stiles in a bad mood. 

“What about you? You pretty much disappeared halfway through junior year,” Stiles reminds him, and Danny shrugs. 

“There was too much shit going on in Beacon Hills and it freaked my mom out,” he explains, because the answer is just that simple. “After the deal with the mistletoe, she started job hunting. We moved in with my aunt in Chula Vista and I ended up going to San Diego State after graduation.” His life has not been that complicated, and after Beacon Hills, he’s honestly okay with it.

“Hey, loverboy!” Both Danny and Stiles glance up at the sound of the irritated voice. A guy who looks to be about their age, and who apparently has a subscription to  _ Steroids ‘R Us Monthly _ , is standing over them with a scowl on his face. “If you wanna get laid, go to a bar instead of taking up the rowing machine,  _ capisce _ ?”

Stiles snorts out a laugh and Danny, while feeling the same way, groans quietly. Stiles’ big mouth is going to get them in trouble, he can feel it. “Look, Little Italy, we’ve been sitting for all of three minutes. Even the most hardcore weightlifters get to take a break now and then, so why don’t you pick another machine and reevaluate your life choices? You know that in addition to a really bad temper, steroids make your dick shrink, right?” Danny drops his face into his hands, because yep, while Stiles has changed a lot on the outside, he’s not changed on the inside even a little.

“Fuck you, you mouthy little punk,” the overly-muscled dude snaps, and Danny tenses. “My dick is big enough to shut that mouth of yours up. Wanna try it?”

“Aaaaand we’re leaving,” Danny interjects, vacating the rowing machine quickly and grabbing Stiles’ hand, pulling him off the bench for the lat pulldown machine he’d been using. He’s pleasantly surprised when, instead of letting go once they’ve cleared the weight room, Stiles simply links their fingers together. Danny’s left with a decision-let go and tell Stiles he wants to finish his workout, which he’d honestly only just started, or guide him back to the locker room so they can clean up? 

When the option is punishing his body or maybe getting the chance to see Stiles in the locker room, it isn’t even really a choice. Which he’d feel pervy about, but unless he’s really reading things wrong, he’s pretty sure Stiles won’t mind.

“Buy me a smoothie?” Stiles asks, but his voice is coy and his head is tilted invitingly, and nope, Danny isn’t reading things wrong at all. 

He does drop Stiles’ hand, though, because he doesn’t want to get a rep around the gym as someone who’s just there to hook up, and nudges him toward the locker room. “Let’s get cleaned up, and then we’ll see about those smoothies. Play your cards right, and I might even get you the protein power booster,” he adds playfully. He’s rewarded with what is nearly a predatory gleam in Stiles’ eyes. 

There’s definitely a temptation to take a longer-than-usual shower, but Danny doesn’t want to be that guy. It’s gross for the other patrons of the gym, though he doesn’t delude himself into believing that guys don’t jerk off in the showers every day, but more than that, he doesn’t want to get off to thoughts of Stiles and then immediately have to face him.

Cold shower it is, then.

After rushing through a three-minute shower, Danny heads back to his locker to pull his clothes out. He’s just removed his towel from around his hips to run it over his hair when he hears a bitten-off curse, and he turns just enough to see Stiles standing behind him, swallowing hard. “You like what you see?” he asks, tone mild, and Stiles’ eyes jump to his guiltily before the expression fades to something more sheepish.

“I always have,” he offers instead, and Danny breaks out into the grin he knows is hard to resist. Stiles looks a little dazed, so Danny takes the opportunity to drop his own gaze, taking in the perfect little trail of hair that leads into the white towel wrapped around Stiles’ hips. He wonders how far that trail goes, and if he’ll get a chance to explore it for himself. It looks soft, and his lips tingle with the thought of mapping it, and-

Right. He’s naked. Now is not a good time to fantasize about the man standing in front of him.

Or, from the way Stiles’ eyes widen and a light flush of color springs to his cheeks, maybe it is.

Smirking a little, Danny steps into his briefs and jeans simultaneously, then pulls out the tight muscle tee he likes to wear to the gym. He appreciates the looks he gets in the locker room, so what? 

“What does it say that you look almost as good with your clothes on as you do with them off?” Stiles remarks off-handedly, and Danny can’t help it, he preens a little. He works hard on his body, and he likes knowing that Stiles likes looking at it.

“I could say the same about you,” he counters, and Stiles grins a little, and if Danny wasn’t already half-crazy about him, that would have done it. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but get dressed. Those smoothies aren’t going to drink themselves.”

He gets more than he bargained for when Stiles brazenly unknots the towel and allows it to drop to his feet. It’s not any worse than when Stiles got to ogle his nudity, but that was unintentional. He was already naked when Stiles came out of the shower. This, though. This is deliberate. If he’d had any doubts, they’re erased when he meets Stiles’ bold, knowing gaze.

Glancing down, he lifts one eyebrow as he slowly peruses the long limbs-and other parts-that are now bared to him. “If you don’t get dressed, we’re both going to get arrested for having sex in public.”

“Promise?” Stiles whispers, easing past him to get into his own locker, and Danny bites back a groan. He’d always known Stiles was trouble. 

He’s looking forward to finding out just how much.


End file.
